


i wish you could see the wicked truth

by blue000jay



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent-Child Relationship, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue000jay/pseuds/blue000jay
Summary: max's parents don't come.title from Glass Animals - The Other Side of Paradise





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fuck max's parents he deserves to be happy :) 
> 
> also i got the idea for david adelard from the fic 'Put That Kid Down' bc it just WORKS okay i love it.

It’s Max’s third year at Camp Campbell. Pickup day is the same, at first. Ered’s parents come first, then Nikki’s mom. Fortunately, she and Neil’s dad start talking and Max gets almost a whole hour to hang out with Nikki and Neil one last time, exchanging contact info once more just to check that it’s right. Phone numbers, chatroom names, Skypes, anything. As much as Max wants to hide the turmoil in his stomach, it’s hard when finally they drive away. He turns and refuses to talk for a little while, watching out the window, eyes on those coming and going. 

The magic kids go quick, Harrison’s parents jittery but Harrison with a newfound stability in his step. Nurf is picked up by his aunt, a clean and neat lady who looks like this is a just a chore, a favor for someone who she’s tired of taking care of and covering for. After that, it slows down until just Space Kid and Max are left. Gwen and David escaped for a moment to grab some papers from the Counselor’s Cabin, leaving them in the Mess Hall for just a moment and of course Space Kid is the first one to speak up.

“So your parents are always late too, huh?” He asks, a smile over his face. Max responds with his own, fish hooks tugging the corners of his mouth upwards in a fake grin. 

“You know it. Not like they fucking care, or anything.” There’s a lengthy pause as Space Kid digests that, then regurgitates whatever information he can think of to not make it awkward. It doesn’t work. 

“Mine are coming from North Carolina! They probably hit traffic. It’s a long drive, my neck always starts to hurt from my suit-” Max doesn’t let him get far. 

“Nobody gives a shit about your suit, Space Kid, least of all me.” 

Time passes slower after Space Kid’s parents finally show up. Max sits, and waits, and waits. And waits. David and Gwen flit about, the Quartermaster shows up with a suitcase full of…. stuff. Max doesn’t ask, Quartermaster doesn’t tell, he just parks the bus next to the Mess Hall and then disappears off toward Spooky Island. 

The sun starts to set. 

“Max.” Gwen’s voice is soft. He heard them earlier, talking just outside the Mess Hall door, David and Gwen. They’d been whispering fiercely, arguing about him, probably. Obviously, Gwen had been chosen to approach the problem. That was a good choice, Max thinks, turning to face her hesitantly, because if he had to see David’s stupid cheerful smile right about now, he’d explode. 

“They’re not coming,” is all he says, before turning away again. He can feel the tension in the air before Gwen speaks, and even then, she doesn’t dare to address it. 

“David and I don’t leave until tomorrow, so we can close up the buildings. He… David’s calling CPS in the morning if they’re still not here, but why don’t you come over to the cabin and sleep, okay?” 

“CPS won’t do shit,” he says, but gets up and grabs his bag anyways.

* * *

How Gwen and David slept on these shitty cots for the whole summer was beyond him, because Max woke up with a searing backache and a nasty mood to match no other. This wasn’t going to be the first time he’d dealt with Child Protective Services, but it was going to be the first time they might actually have the balls to do something. Even David seemed to sense this, his smile not reaching his eyes as he heated up Pop Tarts for the three of them. Strawberry for Max, cinnamon for David, Cookies ‘N Creme for Gwen. Afterwards, he doesn’t argue when Gwen asks him to come help break down a few tents. The stinging in his hands from the ropes distracts him, for a little, as does the laughter when Gwen pinches her thumb with the hammer hard enough to elicit a burst of curses. 

CPS comes around one. They’re finishing up the last of the bread and peanut butter in the kitchen when they arrive in a sleek black SUV, and Max’s parents still haven’t shown face. The lady driving the car is named Mrs. Alan, and she’s all-business no fuckery. Max lets Gwen and David do most of the talking, something forcing him to stay uncharacteristically silent. It’s not sadness. No way. He’s not sad, he’s angry, yes, but sad? No. 

No.

David’s a good distraction. Max counts the minutes, and while David has his serious face on, he does still smile. Especially when he catches Max watching, and shakes his head slightly. It makes something twinge in his chest, in his face, and he has to look away really quick.

“I think you’ll see we’ve got ample evidence to neglect.” David’s finishing up his interview, and his knowledge in the subject is sort of surprising to Max. “And- now that I’m just about done, I wanted to mention that I’m certified child and youth worker in the US, and that Max is familiar with me after three consecutive years of being his camp counselor. I know his habits and moods. I also have a steady income during the year, as well as a good living situation in a safe neighborhood, since I know you’ll need to inspect it.”

“Man,” Max interrupts, leaning to mouth over to Gwen. “I always figured he still lived with his mom.” She snorts.

“-ike to propose is that Max come stay with me for the school year, or until something better suiting could be found.” 

“Well,” Mrs. Alan looks mildly impressed and a bit confounded, echoing Max’s own thoughts on the subject. David was a child worker? Okay, maybe that made sense. But Max? Live with him? He wants to speak up and say his shit but after opening his mouth, decides maybe not to say anything at all. “You seem knowledgeable in the foster system, so I assume you know we still have to contact Max’s parents on the matter-”

“Oh, no issue there, lady,” he can’t hold it in anymore, it’s killing him. “They’re not coming anytime soon, if you don’t give them a Super Official Threatening Call. In fact, I bet I could stay here for another fucking week and they wouldn’t notice. Believe me, they like to pretend I’m invisible and don’t exist, so getting me out of the house and out of their life would be a dream come true for them.” During his spiel, their gazes all turn to him, and he pops up onto his feet, antsy. “So call them all you want, David’s already tried. Gwen too. Every number.”

“We have,” Gwen nods.

“This pains me to fucking say, but I’d rather stay in David’s shithole one-bedroom apartment than spend another night alone in a bigass empty house. At least he has the decency to pretend to tolerate me!” 

“Aw, Max, I don’t pretend.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t done. Listen, Mrs. Whatever-The-Fuck-Your-Name-Was. I’ve looked into this shit too, and it’s a shame I can’t get emancipated at ten. I’ve got dirt on my parents to no end, and this is just- this is the final fucking straw, I guess, although I probably should’ve said that four ‘kid-free vacations’ ago.” 

“Max,” there’s a pause as he takes a breath, and thank god the rest of the campers are gone because he might be crying a little. He’s not sure who spoke, but Gwen’s got a hand on his shoulder and so he takes a little liberty and leans into it, and then into her side. “Max, I understand. Obviously this case of neglect is serious, and you seem to have a good self-awareness of what’s going on. You’re going to have to give a formal interview, and your parents will too, but for now, we need to get you, Mr. Adelard, and Ms. Ramirez back to civilization if I do say so myself.” 

“Oh, thank fucking god.” 

“Language, Gwen.” 

Mrs. Alan smiles. 


	2. you're gonna go far, kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes im cont. this :)

Thus began the start of a long process. 

David was right, unusually so about Child Protective Services. He found a motel for Gwen and him to stay in while Max’s parents finally came down after Mrs. Alan gave them a call, and he unfortunately had to stay with them.

“It really is a pleasure to meet you.” For the first time ever, Max witnessed David lying straight through his grinning teeth. 

“And you.” Max’s dad hardly looked up from his phone as he shook David’s hand, and Max’s mom reached out to take his suitcase from Gwen and carefully pull Max over to her side, keeping a steady hand on his shoulder. 

“I really must say, neglect claims?” Her voice was smooth, and Max snorted. He used the same tone when bullshitting the FBI, he knew her tricks. “It’s awfully presumptuous of you two camp counselors. You don’t know our family.” Max eyed her, then Gwen caught his attention. She was stiff, as was David. Both of them looked uncomfortable, angry, upset, but Gwen’s hands balled into fists first as she spoke. 

“No disrespect, ma’am, but we know enough from Max. Believe me, the little sh- stinker always complains about how his parents don’t care enough. You didn’t even sign him up for a specific camp. You just wanted him gone, and we’re mandated reporters so of course we’re pinning you for neglect!” Her voice got a bit louder at the end, but a hand from David on her shoulder made her swallow, pause, and recompose herself. Max’s mom looked like she’d swallowed a sour lemon. 

“Let’s go, Marjory.” His father piped up, finally putting his phone away and going to take Max’s suitcase from his mother. She nodded and they both turned toward the front desk of the motel, but Max refused to move, pulling out of her grasp as she turned. No way was he going with them. His mother turned around, raising an eyebrow and giving him an impatient look. 

“No!” He plants his feet and puts on his tantrum face, scowling at his parents. If they won’t stop being stupid, then he’s going to put up a fight. 

“Max, don’t be ridiculous. Come on.” His mother puts a hand to her forehead and sighs, before holding it out. “Come. On.”

Max takes two steps backwards, until he can feel he’s bumping into David’s legs. Huh, you know, he’s never really seen him in long pants before. It’s weird. But he pushes that thought aside and leans against his knees, crossing his arms. “I’m not going with you.” 

“I said, come on,” she repeats again, eyes narrowing. Max can feel when David puts a hand on his shoulder and it steadies him a little, makes him bold. He doesn’t have to put up with this shit anymore.

“And I said, no!” He can feel his own eyes narrow in return, glaring at the pair. “All my life you’ve left me alone, let me do my own fucking thing, you haven’t cared. And now you’re going to what? Fight to keep me? Bullshit. You’ve made it clear you don’t fucking want me, so just stop. Let CPS take me away and be child-fucking-free.” 

“Max, of course we want you-”

“Shut the fuck up! No you don’t! How many letters did you send me this summer? Zero! Did you come to parent’s day? No! You don’t want me, I don’t want you, so just stop!” 

“Max.” His father looks scandalized, especially since the desk person and a few passers-by are staring. “Stop this tantrum at once, and come. Along.”

“With all due respect,” David’s voice is even and cold, “I think Max would prefer not to. He can stay with Gwen and I, with your permission, and I honestly think he would prefer it!” 

There’s a pregnant pause as Max’s parents digest this. They share a glance, and Max stares them down with unwavering eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’m just going to be the worst I’ve ever been,” he says, and his mother sighs. 

“Fine.” David starts a little, just enough that Max can feel it. “We’ll let him stay with you. But this isn’t over.” 

* * *

There’s a futon in the motel room and two beds. Max takes one, Gwen takes the other, and David, ever the fucking gentleman, takes the futon. Gwen digs around in her bag before sighing and tugging out her purse.

“I’m going to go get something from the vending machines. Do either of you want anything?” Her gaze flits between Max and David, and both of their heads pop up.

“A lemonade would be wonderful, thanks Gwen!” David grins at her before disappearing down beside the futon to tuck his sheets in. Max shakes his head.

“Uh, no, I’m fine,” he says, and he’s having a hard time putting volume into his voice. Gwen cocks her head, raising a brow. 

“...you sure, kiddo?” She asks, and Max reconsiders. She is offering. 

“....one of those little cookie packets, I guess. If they have them,” he says, giving in

Gwen smiles and gives him a mock two-finger salute before sliding out the door. “Sure thing.” 

It’s quiet in the room for a little bit as David finishes setting up his bed, and Max plays absently with Mr. Honeynuts. He doesn’t really bother to hide it, just making his ears flop. This way, that way, this way, that way. 

Then it all seems to hit him at once.

CPS, his parents, David and Gwen. The arguing and the threat of foster care, and the fact neither Nikki nor Neil have answered his messages. It hits him like a bus hitting David, but he doesn’t get up from it. His shoulders hunch over and he hides his face, tugging up his hoodie to cover his hair and inhaling, exhaling hard. There are definitely no tears, but his eyes sting anyways. 

“Max?” He jumps a little, stuffing Mr. Honeynuts into his hoodie pocket and sitting up.

“What?” He asks, rubbing at his nose a little and meeting David’s concerned gaze. 

“Are you alright?” The bed creaks a little as David shifts to sit next to him, and Max nods. He’s fine, perfectly okay. The wet tracks down his cheeks must be rain from outside, shitty leaks in the roof or something. 

“Oh, oh jeez, sugar snaps. Hey, Max?” David sounds worried but Max can’t look at him, doesn’t want to look at him. “Max, it’s going to be alright. Gwen and I are here for you.”

“But you don’t fucking have to be.” Doubt is crippling him right now, and he hates that it’s David seeing him cry, jesus christ. This fucking sucks. 

“And we are. It’s okay.” Despite his hesitations, David’s not doing half bad at comforting him. There’s another silent moment, until Max makes his stupid fucking sound and okay, fine, he’s crying. 

“Max.” He looks up at David finally, who’s pressing his lips together and looking at Max in a weird way that makes Max want to curl into his side. He reaches out and tugs Max’s hoodie down, then slips his hand onto the back of his head and tugs him into a hug. Max goes, not bothering to fight it. 

* * *

When Gwen enters the room, she has to stop and collect herself. Goddamn, she was only gone for a few minutes max, and this is what they do? 

She tugs out her phone, quietly messing around on it before snapping a picture of the two. Max, dead asleep and leaning against a David trying hard not to laugh at Gwen’s expression. 

“I was gone for like, five minutes, maximum,” she says to him, setting his lemonade down within reach on the nightstand after cracking it open.

“He’s beat.” David smiles at her, reaching out with his one free hand to take it. 

“No surprise.” She sets the cookies and her own ginger ale down on the other night stand, moving over to grab her pajamas from her bag. “It’s been a pretty shitty day for him. And super stressful.” 

“I’m glad he wanted to come with us.” David says, eyes on Max again. “His parents… ugh.” 

Gwen nodded, balling her hands into fists as she made her way to the bathroom. “I know. I’m surprised I haven’t punched them yet.” 

“Not like you’d get in much trouble.” Gwen snorted at the comment, because it was true. Campbell wouldn’t care, especially if there wasn’t a lawsuit he had to deal with. They both went quiet, Gwen lingering by the bathroom door as they both looked at Max.

“....you’re really going to foster him?” She asks, and David sighs, setting his lemonade down to gently brush Max’s hair out of his face. She has to hide her smile by disappearing into the bathroom and listening through the door, tugging her shirt off over her head.

“I’m going to try. He’s Max, you know? We’ve fought with him for three years now, tried so hard- and jeez, Gwen, I sure get lonely during the year! Don’t you?”

“Define lonely by my terms and- yes.”

“Not what I meant. But I can’t let him go back to his parents. You saw them! And they just gave up, let him come stay with us.” David sighs as Gwen comes back out of the bathroom, dressed in pjs now, and goes to shove her clothes in her bag. 

“It’s fucked up,” she agrees, turning to look at them and crossing her arms. A brow is raised, and David laughs a little.

“Remember how we talked about- you know, the thing.” David’s voice is quiet, and Gwen hesitantly pads over in socks to sit at the edge of the bed they’re on.

“David, we’ve talked about a lot of things, for the love of god be more clear.” 

“The roommate thing.” David won’t meet her eye anymore, and Gwen laughs a little. They’d discussed it a few times, definitely more than once. It just… after living with someone, you get used to them. Especially in close quarters. And it was so hard to find a roommate who wanted to keep rooming with you even when you didn’t pay rent for four out of twelve months. Gwen was practically through her list of friends, and she had no idea how David did it to be honest. Neither of them were super financially stable, but the idea had been appealing. And now that Max was a factor, maybe it made it more so? Less so. Gwen was unsure about how she felt about it. She had not planned on becoming a mother figure at 23, no siree. 

“Oh. Yeah, I’ve thought about it, I guess.” Her reply is hesitant but still kind of amused. David finally smiles again, meeting her gaze once more. 

“...let’s talk about it in the morning?” He asks, and she nods.

“Hah, fine with me.” 

The room is quiet between them, then David sighs.

“I can’t feel my arm. A little help?” Gwen has to stifle her laughter into her elbow before she’s able to do so. 

  
  



	3. i can't handle change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bought a plushie at build a bear and named him maxwell !

The next day is an exhausting shit show.

Max is pulled aside by social services once David and Gwen found the office, and separated from… everyone. He had to follow his social worker around for an hour, then sit in a room for more. The room was small, painted this gross brown color and had a table and a few chairs in it. At least he got to keep his bag and phone, which made it bearable. He plays video games quietly for a while, until Nikki and Neil finally text him back.

Both are pretty apologetic, but Max gets it after a teeny tiny tantrum. They were spending time with their family, or whatever. At least they were sensitive enough not to pressure him to talk about the current situation he was in. Mostly, Nikki sent pictures of her room and Neil did the same, then they devolved into shitty jokes and debating. Max caught himself smiling a couple times, but their fun wasn’t around for long. The door creaked as it opened and he hesitantly shut the messaging app and glanced up. His social worker was back, and David wasn’t far behind her.

“Hey, Max,” he says, a smile on his face, as always. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fucking starving,” Max complains, crossing his arms and kicking his feet lightly. He wish he was fucking tall enough to reach the ground, dammit, it would make this much less… demeaning. 

“It’s been a while since breakfast, I know. We can grab something on the way home.” David’s looking at him with a smile that’s getting bigger and bigger, and Max’s social worker sits down with a sigh. David follows, Max glancing between the two.

“Home?” He asks, and the social worker- god, what had been her name? Oh shit, a name tag. Mrs. Alan, right. She smiles at him, then looks at David and back at Max. She leans forward, putting her elbows on the table with his hands clasped into a fist.

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” she explains. “I’ll start with the good. You’ll be going home with Mr. Adelard today. You’re clearly a smart kid, so I think you’ll know what I mean when I say he passed his background checks and his interviews have… been insightful.”

“So, I… get to live with David?” That’s not the worst thing that could ever happen to him, for sure. He looks at David, who grins right back. Ugh, maybe it is. 

“For the time being, yes. We’ll see how it works out, and there will be check-ups.” Mrs. Alan continues, before pausing. Max takes the chance to jump in, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms tighter. 

“Well, that’s the bad news-”

“Max!” David interrupts him, frowning now. “Not a good time to joke about this, Max.” Well, it’s a valid point. Max gnaws on his lip, glancing away from both of them, eyes studying the windowsill.

“...what’s the real bad news?” He asks after a second, and he hears Mrs. Alan sigh.

“Well, your parents,” she begins, and the windowsill is really interesting. The grain of the wood and shit. There’s a dead fly and dust. “...they’re going to give you up willingly, no fight. There will be papers in court but you won’t be required to go.” She stops talking, the words banging around in Max’s head like a poltergeist and kitchen cabinets. 

“So they really don’t give a shit,” he mutters, before looking back over to David and Mrs. Alan. They’re both looking at him with pity, which is stupid, because he doesn’t need that. He knew they didn’t care. He knew this was going to happen, hell, he was going to force it to happen if they didn’t give him up. He’d fake shit about them if he had to, just to get people to pay attention. He’d make scenes and force them. But that wasn’t needed, apparently. They were just… giving up. Giving him up to the wolves. The wolves who were David, apparently.

“I’m sorry, Max,” David says, and he smiles at Max, trying to appear cheerful. “But, you get to come with me today.” 

“Oh, great.” Max sneers, standing up on his chair in a flash. “I get to spend the rest of my cursed childhood with this joyful bastard. How great for me, I love being constantly monitored and forced to do self-proclaimed ‘fun’ things! This fucking sucks, you know, and you being here isn’t going to magically fix it!” Both of the adults are quiet, and Mrs. Alan sighs. David doesn’t do anything, just winces and looks away. Max swallows, staring between the two, then sits back down in his chair and resumes staring at the windowsill. 

“Max.” Mrs. Alan’s voice is soft. “This is hard for you, I know. But Mr. Adelard-  _ David _ is doing something incredibly selfless for you. Taking on a child is no small task, and with your track record I suppose you know that you’re no bundle of daisies. Max, you are smart. Very smart. I know this is upsetting, and you do too. It’s okay to be scared, and upset.” 

David jumps in, then, lifting his eyes to watch Max again. Max looks back, pressing his lips together and just staring back. “The pizza parlor,” he says, and Max flashes back for a moment to Parent’s Day. “In the pizza parlor, I told you that you have every right to be angry. You do. This isn’t okay, and you know that. Your parents are in the wrong. They weren’t good parents. You deserve better than that, Max, and I- I want to be better for you. I want to help make things better.” He smiles at Max, and Max… doesn’t know what to say. He wants things to be better too, but he doesn’t know how they’d be better. As much as he finds David insufferable, it was probably better than whatever his parents had planned for him this year.

“Okay,” he says, breaking David’s gaze to look at the windowsill. “Not like I have much of a choice, anyways.” 

* * *

Gwen’s foot is tapping on the ground incessantly. The waiting room was still the stark, boring environment it had been for the past hour and a half. Apparently, background checks and adoption papers and all sorts of other paperwork took time. God, she hated paperwork. Fuck that shit. She had to do her own earlier, putting in her name and history and all the stuff they asked for when working with kids, but now it was over and she was just waiting. Her phone had long been boring now, games no longer fun. All she could do was just wait, and it was killing her. 

David and her had talked about it, this morning. Over shitty motel breakfast, they’d discussed apartments and moving and Gwen’s job, David’s job. Max. They’d discussed Max a whole lot. The kid slept for a long time last night, exhausted from the past couple days, and even then the circles under his eyes hardly abated. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, a door creaks open and out steps Max, followed by the social worker and David. Gwen stands up, shoving her phone in her pocket and taking a couple steps over to meet them. 

“Hey,” she says, looking over all of them. Mrs Alan smiles at her, then excuses herself down the hall with a folder in hand. Gwen watches her go for a second, then turns back to David. “How’d it go?”

“I’m going home with David.” Max pipes up first, picking at his fingernail and seemingly unsurprised. “My parents don’t want me, so I’m gonna stay with Mr. Sunshine, apparently. Also, I can’t get over all this fucking formality. If I heard someone call David Mr. Adelard one more time, I might explode.” 

“Gonna have to get used to it, kiddo!” David smiles, reaching down to ruffle Max’s hair and then looking to Gwen. “We’re cleared.” 

“Oh, thank god. I really didn’t want to go to court.” Her shoulders slumped, David patting one of them gently. Max scoffed.

“Why would you have to go? Oh, wait, testimony.” His expression turned from mocking to understanding, and David ruffled his hair again. He scowled, lifting his hands to mess up and fix his hair again. 

“Well yeah, that and the fact I’m going to be your joint foster-mom,” she points out, and doesn’t bother stifling a laugh when Max jerks his head up to stare at her.

“What?” He snaps, glancing between Gwen and David. “Wait, what? You two? You’re  _ together _ ?” That shuts her laughter down, Gwen shaking her head and David stammering a few different excuses.

“No! No, no no. I love Gwen, yes, but no, we’re just- living together! Just rooming together, we’d discussed it and now we figure it’s best if we cohabitate! And now you’ll be able to stay with both of us, have both the mother and father figure that you need!” 

“Gwen? A  _ mother figure _ ? Ahaha-” 

“I mean, of course you don’t absolutely need both genders to grow up sufficiently but we just figured it would be easier-” 

“Oh, jesus christ, both of you shut the fuck up.” Gwen presses a hand to her head, turning away from a laughing Max and stammering, awkward David. “I already have a fucking headache. Woo. Hoo.” She starts to walk down the hall, hiding her smile as she glances back at them. 


	4. little poor me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just dadvid fluff. thank u for ur time

David’s apartment is clean and unused. It makes sense, since he hasn’t been here in 3 months. Although, it is very David. There’s a mantel but no fireplace, and pictures of David with an older redheaded woman. She looks like him, so much so that Max has no problem figuring out it’s his mother. She looks… nice. She’s always smiling. Max understands suddenly where David got his smile and good mood from. The rest of the mantel has little plastic creatures- bears, horses, cats, even a little tiny platypus on the corner. He picks it up, stretching on his toes to snatch the little creature off the shelf and turn it over in his hands. It’s not great quality, just something picked up at the dollar store, most likely. But it’s just… very David. Max moves fast to put it back when he hears footsteps coming down the hall, turning around to see David coming back into the small living room. 

“And that’s the last of it!” He declares, smiling at Max and putting his hands on his hips. Max shrugs, kicking the one bag left by his feet.

“Not everything,” he points out, and David shakes his head. David had a spare room, but only the one, and Gwen and David had decided it was his. He really didn’t get a say in the matter, but then again he wasn’t going to complain. David was sleeping on the couch for the time being, while Gwen got his room. She was out now, getting some “proper bedding” and grabbing a few things from a friend’s house. David, on the other hand, had just finished moving Max’s minimal possessions into the wardrobe in his room, and now all the kid had left was one bag. It really only had his electronics and Mr. Honeynuts, but he wasn’t about to unpack that in front of David.

“Why don’t you bring that back into your room and I’ll get started on some grub? I bet we’re all pretty hungry!” David says, and Max picks up his backpack by the strap so he can head down the hall, toward his room. His room. Huh. He shoves a saccharine thought aside in favor of glancing back at David, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Can’t we just go to Mcdonald’s, or something?” He complains, and David snorts, walking into the kitchen and out of sight. 

“Or something! Max, we’re finally in a place where I can cook properly and not with outdated equipment! I’d rather cook something yummy than eating processed food.” David cooks? Well, Max isn’t too surprised. As much as he acts like a little kid, he is somewhat of an adult. 

“Is there even anything in the fridge?” He asks, raising his voice a bit so that David can hear him. He can hear it when David opens said fridge, and the disappointed little hum he lets out after the fact. 

  
“Ah- hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out.” Max rolls his eyes, turning back to the hallway and leaving David to do some problem solving. The hallway was lit with a soft yellow light, and he stopped in front of the room David had said was going to be his. The door was half open, and inside the walls were painted a light beige color. The sheets were a plain white, with a comforter folded up at the bottom, and the wardrobe was also half open. Max could see a few of his shirts hung up already, but the rest had been left for him to do. Great, David hadn’t snooped in his shit. It relaxed him a little, and he didn’t hesitate to go into the room and put his backpack down. He turned to shut the door, then froze.

Up the door, about halfway, were some stickers. Max wouldn’t have been surprised if they were leftover from David, since he didn’t put using stickers past him, but no. They looked new, and they spelled out in colorful blue-  _ Max’s Room _ . There was a little cat sticker next to it as well, and when Max looked around he found the rest of the sticker book on the bedside table. 

There was a moment of mischievousness, then he shut the door and pretended that the warmth in his chest was from his hoodie.

The rest of his afternoon was chill. Max set up the room to his liking, shoving the rest of his clothes into the drawers without a real effort and then plopping down onto the bed to test it’s comfort-level and using his phone. He also plugged in his DS. It had been out of battery by the time he managed to get it from his parent’s house that morning, and he wanted to play some Pokemon. It’d been months! 

Nikki and Neil are as talkative as ever, and Max is sure to let them know he is fine, and in David’s house. That got a rise out of them and why was beyond Max, until he realized oh fuck he’d totally forgotten to tell them who exactly was fostering him.

After a lengthy explanation and awkward silences from their end, he signs off. The room is starting to smell weird, and he’s beginning to get worried David is burning the building down. He exits the room and peeks down the hallway, then into the living room, then into the kitchen. David’s quietly humming and stirring something in a pan, and Max takes the chance to silently watch. He’s fairly certain he hasn’t been noticed yet, so he leans against the wall and observes. David finishes stirring the pan and heads over to the pantry, opening the door and leaning down to grab some can. Max can hear him whistling, and it takes a moment to realize he’s whistling the stupid ditty he used to sing every morning at camp. His chest goes warm again, and he’s got to get rid of that, so he meanders his way over to the fridge and opens it up.

“Got anything good in here?” He asks, tipping his head out from behind the fridge to watch David jump. He nearly drops the can in his hand, before laughing and looking over at Max.

“You walk quietly, jeez, Max! And no, there’s not much to drink there. Just water. I called Gwen and asked her to get some stuff from the store on her way back.” Max shuts the fridge with a disappointed sigh, then glances around.

“Fine. Cups?” David points with his free hand and Max follows it. “Second cupboard on the left.” He goes over, then stares up at the cupboard with an annoyed expression. God, he can’t wait for the  _ getting taller _ part of puberty. While he’s contemplating his route up to the cups, he felt hands around his middle and then suddenly, he’s standing on top of the counter. He grabs onto the cabinet to steady himself, then turns and scowls at David. David’s smiling at him, and then pats his head before turning back to the stove. 

“Don’t fall down,” he says, and Max grumbles. He stares for a moment at David, then turns and opens the cupboard and grabs a glass. Shutting it takes a moment, as does getting down, but he makes it off okay and then fills the glass with water. 

“What are you even making?” Max finally asks, leaning against the counter and watching David putter around the kitchen.    
“I’m trying to make stir fry! I had some canned vegetables and rice in the pantry, so I figured it would work. Although, it won’t be as good without fresh veggies! The price we pay.” David snorts, stirring up the vegetables and rice that Max can now see. 

“Stir fry?” He asks, sipping his water. “Really?”

“What, surprised I can cook?” David glances at him and raises an eyebrow, a gesture that Max returns. 

“Well, yeah, a little. You’re like, supposed to be useless in real life, hopeless society,” he explains, tipping his head and looking to the side snidely. David gasps, and there’s a rustling noise.

“Any good person knows how to cook. Can you read, Max?” Max sputters, nearly spitting a sip of water out onto the floor. 

“What- what kind of question is that?? Of course I can fucking read!” He exclaims, watching David go back toward the pantry. 

“Language. And then good, you can cook! Here!” Max rolls his eyes and frowns, turning to face him after putting his glass in the sink, then yelps. David manhandles him for a second, and when he’s done, Max is wearing a large red apron. 

“What the fuck, David?” 

“Language, Max! And you’re going to help me cook!” David’s grinning, hands on his hips as he watches Max struggle with the apron. Humiliating, Max thinks. Absolutely humiliating. He crosses his arms, glaring up at David and wrinkling his nose. 

“What else is there to do other than stir shit?” He asks, “because I’m not going to be that big of a help, then.” David taps his chin with one hand, then turns and starts getting cutlery and plates out and on the counter.

“You can set the table,” he says, and Max rips off the apron and tosses it on the ground. Then goes over and grabs the plates before heading over to the small kitchen table. 

* * *

Gwen gets home right as David is done cooking, Max sitting on the counter and swinging his feet to be a general annoyance. She ropes him into putting groceries away, and he gets to learn where everything goes. They also learn that they might need a step-stool for him to get around the kitchen properly.

The place isn’t the biggest, but they make it work and end up clustered at the table together. Max can grudgingly admit that David’s stir fry isn’t half bad, for canned vegetables and a rusty cooking attitude. Gwen also agrees, by stuffing her face with it the moment she can. It ends with David nearly giving her the Heimlich of course, before she can clear her throat and jump away with hands outstretched. Max nearly ends up on the floor laughing, and spills his soda as a result. Thank you Gwen for your skill in grocery shopping, he thinks, but it’s no fun to clean the sticky mess up. By the time David is shuffling him off to bed, he’s tired. Really, truly tired. It’s been awhile since he’s felt like this but it’s not bad, this time. No, this time he’s… kind of happy.

He changes into pajamas and brushes his teeth before heading out into the living room before he can stop himself. Gwen’s already disappeared into her new room, and David’s in pajamas as well, setting up the couch for his night. 

“Max?” He looks up from tucking the sheets in as Max comes in, and stands up straight. “What’s up, kiddo?” 

“Nothing,” he says, staring at David for maybe a second too long before averting his eyes to the muted TV. They’ve had it on since after dinner, and now it’s playing some soap opera- Gwen’s going, for sure. “It’s… nothing.”

“....are you sure?” David’s still watching him, and after a second Max snaps. He glances back at him.

“Thanks, David,” he says, making sure it’s quick. “Goodnight.” He’s gone before David has a chance to react. 

David pauses, then smiles softly. “Goodnight, Max.” 


End file.
